2017
Golden Bell Awards
非戲劇類節目導演獎
非戲劇類節目導演獎
For most people, “home” naturally refers to the place one returns to each day—a space of comfort and rest for both body and soul. Yet for many around the world, the feeling of having a home is unimaginable. At some point in their lives, they were forced to leave—because of war, politics, or simply in pursuit of a better life—and began a journey of drifting, searching for a new sense of home. While trying to settle and take root, they continue to yearn for the ghost of a homeland left behind. Can this new home ever replace what was lost? Faced with new identities and unfamiliar neighbors, how do they perceive themselves? Have they become someone new, or are they destined to remain like rootless water plants, adrift?
Why do we write? When words erupt from the mind and pour into the heart, images and monologues take the place of daily tedium—of the mundane, the irritating, the unbearable. For some writers, however, writing is more than expression; it is salvation. It is an unshakable calling. In this themed selection on literature, Giloo presents documentaries that delve into the lives and inner worlds of writers—poets, novelists, critics—who wield pens (or typewriters) like swords, fearlessly confronting the truths of the world. The passage of time leaves behind not just pages, but marks of introspection—quiet yet undeniable badges of their creative journey.
It all started as a joke: “Will people say this is too Taiwanese?” After all, we’re the ones always afraid of being boring or too slow— and yet here we are, gritting our teeth and programming a lineup of gloriously slow cinema. But some stories can’t be skipped. Some lessons, no matter how painful, you just have to get through. Taiwan’s inner angst is like a deep bruise beneath the skin—long-settled and hard to press out. Sometimes, you just need a hot young masseur to work it loose. Whether you end up loving, hating, or feeling nothing at all about Taiwan, we invite you to revisit its joy, rage, sorrow, and everything in between. This film festival is like a sketchy pair of hands passing you crib notes under the table—an attempt to loosen what refuses to unclench, to summarize the unsummarizable.
This curated film list centers around the Time Travel Taiwan Series, featuring 13 Taiwanese documentary filmmakers who reinterpret officially archived footage through creative reimagining. By transforming historical images into new narratives, they breathe fresh life into decades past. Audiences are invited to step into a time tunnel — to explore Taiwan’s historical landscapes and witness the sparks ignited by cross-generational dialogue through these experimental visual works.
Margaret Atwood carried The Handmaid’s Tale from Canada to the world. Yu Xiuhua, a woman with cerebral palsy from rural Hubei, moved the Chinese-speaking world with a single poem. In the 1930s, Ong Naô journeyed from Taiwan to Tokyo for his studies and left behind Before the Dawn. Giloo Documentary and ChiuKo Publishing present a curated selection of literary documentaries. Let the words of these writers take you elsewhere.
As a kid growing up glued to the TV, I used to dream of flying to Japan just to cheer for Vivian Hsu’s group “Black Biscuits.” Japanese entertainment had an indescribable magic for me—everything on screen felt so beautiful, so funny, so captivating. Not like Taipei, which always seemed kind of gray. In my early twenties, I decided to leave Taipei and chase my dreams in Japan. In the blink of an eye, 14 years passed in Tokyo—and I grew up. I finally realized that what I once saw on television perhaps only ever existed on television. Living in Japan is a whole other story—more often than not, it’s been about gritting my teeth and “eating bitterness” until I was full. Just last week, I happened to hear Ambassador Frank Hsieh on the radio here. He chose to introduce Taiwan with two songs: You Must Fight to Win and Twilight Hometown. Hearing those songs on Japanese radio, I felt unexpectedly emotional. “The hometown of twilight keeps calling me, calling me...” People say that traveling is a way to find the road home— I think now, I finally understand what that means.